


Beautiful

by Glambertastic



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Acid Attack, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Attempted Murder, Disfigured, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glambertastic/pseuds/Glambertastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life was perfect, until Adam was subjected to a vicious acid attack and within seconds, he could feel his looks and the life he loved melting away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beautiful

It was just a normal mirror, a round sheet of glass encased in a white plastic frame, but as I reached for it, my hand trembled.

 

“ _Take your time, Adam_ ,” my psychologist Lisa said gently.

 

“ _Look at your chest first, then work your way up slowly, inch by inch_.”

 

I never do things in halves. I never had, and a few purple blotches on my cheeks weren't going to change that. I mean, how different could my face be? It might be red and scarred a bit, but it would still look like me, right? Just Adam. Taking a deep breath, I held the mirror up my face.

 

All of a sudden, that normal little mirror I had in my hands became a window into hell.

 

Staring back at me was the most awful sight I'd ever seen. My skin was red raw and weeping like meat hanging in a butcher's window. My eyelids were puffy, and underneath, my eyeballs protruded like two cartoonish globes. My lips were swollen like sausages and my eyelids and my once elegantly arched eyebrows were gone, too. I reeled, unable to recognise the face peering back at me.

 

“ _That's not me_ ,” I thought, unable to understand what I was seeing. “ _Have they given me a broken mirror? Or are they showing me a picture of someone else?_ ”

 

Staring at the stranger in the mirror, I sat frozen, studying every tiny part of the disfigured face. The way my left eyeball looked milky and opaque. The circle of raw flesh surrounding my left ear. The small, shrivelled mound my nose had become. The way my cheeks had sunk into my skull: my face melted into my neck like candle wax.

 

My hitherto disbelief and desperate denial shattered. I wasn't a singer or a rock star anymore. How could I be, looking like that?

 

“ _No_ ,” I whimpered, my chest heaving with sobs. But no tears came: my ravaged eyes couldn't even cry.

 

“ _What have you done to me?_ ” I wailed inside. “ _Where's my face? Get it out of the bin, and give it to me right now. I'll fix it myself._ ”

 

“ _It's early days, love_ ” my mom said, soothingly.

 

“ _You won't look like this forever_ ,” Lisa added

 

But all I could hear was the thump of my heart, and the whoosh of blood in my head; their voices sounded so far away. Even though I sat there in silence, in my mind I screamed and screamed. I screamed for my beautiful, stolen face, but it was gone _forever. Gone for good._


	2. Destroyed

_A few months earlier_

I opened the door and blinked as I stepped out into the bright, busy high street. As soon as I did, Tommy phoned me, desperate to know if I had reached. 

'Yes, I'm coming, you're so impatient Tj!' I sighed, closing the door behind me.

And that's when I spotted a young guy in a hoody, crossing the road and coming towards me.

~

With his arms outstretched and a coffee cup clasped between his two hands, the young guy made a beeline straight for me.

He was scruffy and unkempt, and his dark eyes stared into mine. They reminded me of a deranged killer in a scary film. I shivered, then told myself I was being too paranoid and silly. Maybe Tommy shouldn't have dragged him to a horror film every now and then. ' _He's probably just a druggy or a beggar, and all he wanted was for me to put some money in his cup'._ I thought to myself. In that moment, I actually felt sorry for him. ' _Poor guy',_ I thought, _'he must have an awful life.'_  Still on the phone to Tommy, I rested my mobile in the crook of my neck and reached into my pocket to get my wallet.

'Wait a minute, Tommy,' I told him

By now, the young guy was only an arm's length away from me. I was still struggling to get my wallet out from my tight leather pants and.....

 _Splash._ The guy chucked the contents of the cup at my face and, in that split second, my life changed forever.

The liquid drenched my face and dripped down my neck, and for one brief moment, I didn't understand what had happened.

 _'Has he just thrown his coffee over me? What the fuck?'_ I thought in shock and disbelief, clinging on to my phone tightly.  _'Hello? Adam are you still there?'_ I could hear Tommy's voice in my phone. I was too angry to reply.  _'How rude! I'm going to have to go home and get changed now.'_

 _  
_And then the pain hit me. It was an explosion of agony, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It spread through my body like a wildfire, hotter than hell. What had he thrown on me? It probably just some hot coffee isn't it? Or it wasn't just coffee? No. This was something else. Something worse. From the top of my head all the way down to my feet, every inch of me was in agony. _What happened?_ And my face.... I could feel it burning, burning so hot I thought it was going to burst into flames any second.

I lurched away a few metres, oblivious to everything around me, doubled over in pain. With every second, the agony clawed its way deeper and deeper into my skin. I heard a horrible screaming sound, like an animal being slaughtered. What was making that noise? Then I realised it was coming from me.

Desperate thoughts raced through my mind. Had that boy thrown bleached on me? Or was it acid? That was it! It was acid; it had to be.

 _'Am I being assassinated?'_ I suddenly realised, horror and terror swirling in my mind in equal measures.

Tommy was still on the phone listening to my screams. And I could still hear him on the phone,  _'ADAM WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU? WHERE ARE YOU? I'M COMING OVER RIGHT NOW. HANG IN THERE.'_

 _  
_I felt as if I was being burned alive, that I was melting like a candle. I tried to think clearly, but the pain was so excruciating it swallowed me whole. I thought I must be dying; it was impossible to feel this kind of agony and survive.

What should I do? I needed help so badly. Tommy is probably finding me right now. I was staggering around the pavement outside my condo, screaming those awful screams, but people were just staring at me, their mouths hanging open in shock.  _'Is that Adam Lambert?' 'What is wrong with him?'_ Why was no one helping me? The assassin must had planned this for so long, but why? Why would he do this? 

The acid had dripped down my forehead and into my eyes. They were swelling shut, and I could barely see a thing as I stumbled into a restaurant that I knew was next door. My hands felt as if they were on fire, as they had been covered in acid when I had raised them instinctively to try to wipe my face, but I battered frantically on the glass window anyway.

'Someone, please! Help me!' I screeched, but no one did. The people in the restaurant looked annoyed. The passers-by on the street just kept on standing there, staring at my pathetic-looking self. Couldn't they see I was dying? Couldn't they see what's happening to my face? Didn't they care?

My vision ins fading, I knew I had to get across the busy main road. There was a cafe on the other side where Tommy was supposed to meet me there. He would come to my aid. He must've been looking around for me now. The pain was getting worse and worse, deeper and deeper.

With the feeling that every vein in my body was on fire, I careened across the road. A bus screeched to a stop and drivers sounded their horns. One of my boots fell off, but I barely noticed any of it.

Somehow, I made it to the other side of the road. My vision was getting fuzzier and fuzzier as I raced into the cafe.  _'I must have looked like a maniac right now,'_ I thought fleetingly, imagining my flesh bright red, bubbling and disappearing as the acid ate it up. I didn't realise that I had turned pure white. The acid had gone so deep, it had destroyed two layers of skin and seeped right through the bone.

All I could think about was the pain. It eclipsed everything else. I didn't think it was possible, but it increased with every second. I never knew such agony existed.

'I've been attacked! Please help me,' I screamed, lurching behind the counter where I thought there would be a sink. The customers all froze, coffee cups in their hands, once again just staring at me. Noticing an ice bucket half-full of water in front of me, I started trying desperately to rinse my face in it.

'Are you okay? What happened? One of the staff members exclaimed, rushing to my side.

'Someone threw acid on me,' I gasped, desperately trying to dunk my face. But the bucket was too shallow; I couldn't submerged myself properly. What was I going to do? The toilet! Still shrieking with fear, I staggered to the Gents. Or was it the Ladies? I don't even know. I just need a toilet. I stuck my head into the loo. I flushed and flushed, but the trickle of water didn't do a thing. Why wouldn't the pain stop?

I blundered back into the cafe, where pandemonium had broken out. Everyone seemed to be shouting and running around in panic. Someone sat me in a chair and started spraying my face with water. But sitting down made the pain even worse. The acid ran down my neck, onto my chest and legs. I felt my clothes sizzling and burning. I couldn't speak- I could only scream and scream as I writhed in pain.

'Breathe into this paper bag,' another person said, but nothing anyone could do helped. They didn't understand; the pain was too big. It was pure, raging agony, and it was fuelled by absolute terror too.

~

Time seemed to stop as the agony grew and grew. This is one of the longest moments of my life. My skin, my muscles, even my bones, felt like they were ablaze. Ever blood vessel, every milimetre of tissue and sinew was shrieking in agony. I couldn't even scream anymore. I just slumped there, my head bowed and arms dangling lifelessly.

 _'I'm going to die here,'_ I thought, and I could feel myself starting to slip away. After everything I'd gone through to my career, how I worked so hard to be finally able to become a rockstar, I was going to die in the coffee shop across the road from my flat.

 _'Maybe it's better this way,'_ I found myself thinking.  _'The pain will stop. There won't be paps following me everywhere anymore, no more being hated to society abour being an openly gay singer. It'll all stop. I'll be at peace, and I won't be afraid anymore.'_

But suddenly, my family's faces flashed through my mind. My best friends and even Glamberts who had supported and helped me through every step of my way flashed through my mind. Mum, Dad and Neil. I felt strength well up inside me. 

I had to fight; I couldn't give up. That's what I'm here for, right? Everyone knows Adam Lambert for his perserverance. But all around me, I could hear people moving and talking, asking if I was okay. Some even recognised me. Their voices sounded distant, as though they were far away instead of right beside me. Had the acid affected my hearing as well?

'It'll be okay, don't worry'

'You'll be fine.'

I knew they were just trying to comfort me, but they didn't understand. I was going to die unless I did something. The pain was going to kill me. Somehow, I managed to remember my phone. Yes! My phone! I was panicking and screaming all a while ago that I hadn't realised my phone kept ringing. But now I couldn't see a thing, but I could operate my mobile in my sleep. I knew that Tommy was calling me. He knew something happened on my way to meet him and he is frantically looking for me. I slide the touch screen and answered the call.  _'Adam I had beens so worried where are you? Are you okay? Ple-''_

_'Tommy, Tommy! Come to the cafe! Come to the cafe! I've been attacked! Come to the cafe.....'_

_'Okay I need to know that you're okay, do not hang up the phone until I've reached'_

_'Adam, talked to me, let me know you're fine please just tell me anything!'_

_'Th-they trew acid in my face.. Please hurry..'_ I begged.

Seconds later Tommy raced in, his voice piercing my fog of agony.

'Adam, are you okay?' he asked, frantically.

'T-Tommy...' 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think? :)


	3. Help me

Through my haze of pain, I heard Tommy ring 999. I was barely able to move. I heard him tell the emergency services my name and my next of kin, and then the cafe's staff was leading me to the back of the shop.

Unbelievably, for the next hour I sat in the seat, as still as I could, while the ambulance weaved its way through rush-hour traffic. By now I couldn't see a thing and all noises sounded muffled, as though I was under water. I couldn't fight the pain- all my strength was gone, and I faded in and out of consciousness as the paramedics waited for the green light from police before they could treat me. Apparently, they had to make sure my attacker wasn't nearby still, but I'd lost all concept of time. It could have been 2 minutes or ten years- I was only aware of the torment, the burning. The next thing I knew, I was being zipped inside something and wheeled out of the cafe into an ambulance.

 _'I must be dead,'_ I thought in relief.  _'This must be a body bag and those voices I hear are other souls who have died too.'_   Then everything went black.

~

When I came to the following morning, pumped full of morphine in a specialist burns unit at Cedars-Sinai Hospital, I didn;t know where I was. Was I dead or alive? Where was Tommy? I couldn't make any sense of any of it. Then I glimpsed a flicker of blue through my swollen eyelids, and heard Dad's voice. I realised Mum were there with him, too. Apparently the police had phoned them and they'd come as quickly as they could, but I simply assumed they were dead,too. 

 _'I wonder how they died,'_ I thought.  _'What an unlucky family we are.'_

By now my head was the size of a football. After the attack, my face had gone so pale I was almost green, but with each that passed, it began to swell and swell. I wasn't aware of it at the time, though; as nurses washed my face to try to neutralise the acid, I was barely conscious. Tests at the hospital revealed it to be neat, industrail strength sulphuric acid.

That night, I was put under heavy sedation. Luckily the drugs worked, and I was barely aware of anything.

Around dawn the next morning, I stirred, my mind still fuzzy with medication and panic. I head Mum and Dad's voices again. Trying to reassure me, but I couldn't seem to speak and my eyes were welded shut. I couldn't see Mum and Dad crying as they looked at my head, inflated to a size of a pumpkin. I couldn't see the skin on my face, black and brown and orange, and bubbled like burned plastic.

I faded in and out of consciousness for the next few hours. At some point of the day, my manager Lane and the police officer arrived, but I couldn't concentrate as stood by my bed and asked me questions.  _Lane's probably feeling frustrated right now. How is she going to explain to the media?_ Still thinking, as if they mattered now. I was still trapped in a shadowy world of morphine and confusion. 

After the police officer left, I kept trying to talk to Mum and Dad, but my voice sounded so weird. Raspy and deep, not like me at all. My voice is usually cheerful and angelic. Why was that? I had better just sleep for a while...

The next day, I started to catch flashes of the real world as my vision came back a bit: Tommy and the Glamily on the couch, Mum and Dad not leaving my side; a man with blonde curls and blue eyes and a sweet foreign voice, who introduced himself as my surgeon, Sauli. 'I'm going to help you, Adam,' he said. 'You're going in for an operation on your face.' I knew I could trust him.

Only two days after the attack, I had the first of what would prove to be over sixty operations to rebuild my face and internal damage to my oseophagus. My voice is still hoarse and I couldn't sing. In the operating theatre, under general anaesthetic, the medical team sliced away my entire face, removing the dead and burned skin there. I'd suffered third degree burns, as well as losing most of my nose, my eyelids, and half of my left ear. The acid has also damaged my eyes, my mouth and my tongue. It had splashed onto my arms, hands and legs, and burned right through my neck and chest. I had the worst injuries the medical team had ever seen.

The next day, I went back into the theatre for another operation to remove more burned flesh. The top of my head was shaved in preparation for a mask made up of donor skin from corpses, which was stapled to my face to help it recover and prevent infection. I had to wear it for ten days and must have looked like a patchwork quilt and, if I'd known, if I'd seen my reflection, I'm sure I would have screamed in horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh this chapter is a little boring, isnt it?


End file.
